Legend of Revenge
by Zombie79
Summary: It is ten years after the death of Cyrgon, it is a time of peace and prosperity for the kingdoms of the west. The Queen of Elenia is posed to make the announcement of the Crown Princess’ engagement … an attempt on their lives brings to light a new danger
1. Ch1: News Travels Drunk

Prologue

**Prologue**

_**Thirteen months after Martel is killed by Sparhawk in Azash's temple...**_

The unpaved road off the main highway twisted through a thick growth of trees and shrubs. It was a rough path, overgrown with low reaching branches and the roots of the old trees, which rose up from the soft earth.

Krager fumbled with his flagon and drained the last drops of wine. He belched loudly, then laughed as a bird took off in fright, scaring him in turn. His mount flicked her ears in disgust. Tossing her head at this misfortune, she continued to bear the drunkard through the woods.

Krager had promised to carry himself to this meeting sober. It was a promise he recalled making a long time ago through the hazy vapors of his current intoxication. Even as he uttered the promise, his fingers had been twisting at the cork of a wine bottle and laughing with bravado. Since leaving the seedy tavern in Demos, Krager had been working his way through saddlebags stuffed with Arcium red.

The estate that was his goal came into view behind a stand of elm trees. The gates were open, and the dirt road turned to a graceful, circular driveway laid with cobblestones. On either side of the driveway, the grass was neatly trimmed and the expanse of lawn stretched out before the house. The road led to the doors of the great house, a massive structure of finely cut grey stone that had not been built for defence but for intimidation. Krager blinked and wondered why such a well manicured estate was hidden by overgrowth of elms and birch trees.

Despite the warmth of the day, Krager shuddered and pulled his cloak tighter to his body. His horse passed the gates and trotted lightly up the pathway. The clatter of her metal shoes against the stones echoed off the high grey stone façade of the home.

He tugged sharply at the reins and the horse came to sudden stop, nickering against the forceful command. Drunkenly, Krager stumbled out of the saddle.

Desperately Krager clung to his horse as the world pitched off balance without warning. His head went spinning as things turned violently around him. Slowly it all stopped and things settled back into their proper place. While attempting to find some form of composure, Krager was considering slinking away and abandoning the job all together, when a deep baritone thundered behind him.

"What are you doing here?"

Krager looked up as the front door swung open. A familiar face appeared, a man of his own age with a towering frame. The doors had been thrown open with such force they bounced against the far wall and came wobbling back into place. The man who emerged from them reached casually out and stopped them.

"Baurduna!" Krager called with a grin. He let go of the horse and staggered forward.

As Baurduna strode forward, Krager reached out, expecting support from the towering giant, who instead grabbed him roughly by the shirt front. Krager felt terror blossom and his head snapped back.

"You've been told never to come here," Baurduna growled. "This isn't your – "

Upset by the unpleasant scare and shaken by Baurduna's rough handling, Krager opened his mouth.

Instead of the protest Krager planned, he vomited.

Disgusted, Baurduna shoved Krager away, who tripped on a loose stone and fell to his knees.Krager reached out blindly. His stomach continued to contract, painfully bringing up everything until he could only dry heave. Exhausted by the effort, Krager sank onto his ankles then toppled to his side and gave into unconsciousness.

There was sweet nothing and then there was a painful coldness, which seemed to swallow him whole. Krager jerked back to consciousness, spluttering as he tried to breathe and his lungs met water. Before panic could settle in, the water was gone and Krager was gasping for air. He became aware of the hand at the back of his neck and reached up for it.

"Do you need another dunking?" Baurduna asked, bending at the knees to address Krager.

His lungs desperate for air, Krager could only give a slight shake of his head. Baurduna released his neck and Krager looked frantically around to get his bearings. Krager, looking to his left, saw that his horse had been tethered to a wooden beam. The mare had been provided with a meal and was happily munching on hay. The drunkard realized that while unconscious Baurduna had dragged him behind the house to the stables.

Crawling up from his knees, using the large water trough for leverage, Krager blinked the water from his eyes. He gulped and sucked the air in great mouthfuls. Baurduna shoved a rough cloth in Krager's face. "Take it easy, you'll just pass out again if you keep doing that."

Baurduna released him and Krager mopped at the water, which ran from his face in rivulets. He was wet down to the waist and the large trough was nearly empty. Tethered nearby, his horse was happily contented with a scattering of hay.

"Now that you are awake, get your horse and get out of here," Baurduna added, stepping over Krager unceremoniously and heading back to the house.

"Martel's dead," Krager said quickly, panting for air between each syllable. He looked over his shoulder and saw Baurduna stop so suddenly the big man struggled for balance. There was an uncomfortable silence in the yard and Krager waited nervously.

"Lissohen, help him inside," Baurduna said finally. He shook his head and continued for the house. "God forgive me, Krager, for what I'm about to do."

A young man rushed to Krager's side and began to help him. Gratefully, Krager let Lissohen support him. Lissohen, who was still tender in age, had developed none of the cruelty that lay in Baurduna's touch. Weakly, Krager leaned against Lissohen and they followed Baurduna into the kitchens.

There was a rough stool near the large hearth, Baurduna pointed to it and Lissohen deposited Krager there. He shivered in the embrace of the large fire and then relaxed slowly into it.

"Stay with him, watch him, and don't let anywhere near the ale barrel," Baurduna said, making no attempt to keep his voice quiet. Lissohen had no chance to respond, as Baurduna disappeared from the kitchen.

Krager had no interest in conversation; the cold had been replaced by the thudding headache of his hangover. His stomach was sour and hollow and all Krager could think of was a soft bed in some quiet place, with a barrel of Arcein red waiting for him after a day or two of sleep.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed and Lissohen never spoke a word to him. The boy fidgeted nervously near the door the entire time. Krager was certain that he could fall into a pleasant slumber where he sat. The heavy footfalls of Baurduna's return stopped Krager from giving into that.

"Children," Baurduna said, coming into the kitchen. The gentleness of Baurduna's tone made Krager sit up and open his eyes. Baurduna escorted two children into the kitchen, his arms about their slender shoulders. Krager, who had never seen the twins before, looked at them unable to hide his shock. "This man works for your father, and he has something to tell you."

Krager stared at the children then looked up to Baurduna, who glared at him above the heads of his charges. He was struggling for the words, and hating Baurduna, when the twins stepped away from him, clutching the others hands and coming closer to him.

"Martel is dead," Krager said, choking slightly on the words. "Your, your father that is, he passed away."

The girl broke into tears immediately, bending her head and letting her hair fall into her face, hiding her grief from view. The boy, standing at the same height as his sister, released her hand and put one arm bravely about her shoulders. He met Krager's eye with an expression that was painfully familiar in its arrogance.

"How?" the boy demanded. "Where?"

Krager swallowed, shaking his head slightly as though he did not understand the statement. Impatient, the boy stamped his foot and raising his voice, made the demand again.

What struck Krager so sharply, making him dumb in the face of the adolescents' fears, was the children's hair. The twins wore their hair free; the boys shoulder length and the girls dropping to her waist. It wasn't the length of the hair that disturbed Krager so much as the color of it. Like Martel, both children's hair was the color of first snow.

In a dry voice, Krager gave the boy his answer, "Zemoch. The capital, there was a battle, and he – was killed."

Baurduna had come to the children, and the girl fell into his arms with a soft cry. The boy lifted his chin and looked at Krager with as much ferocity as thirteen years could manage. Karger wanted to look away from the boy; there was something sad he thought, about how brave the young man tried to appear.Baurduna reached for the boy, who yanked himself away and stormed from the kitchen. Through the open door Krager watched as the boy break into a run in the yard and disappear into the orchard.

"Get out," Baurduna said, looking over the girls shoulder. "And don't come back, Krager. We have no more business together."

Krager blinked, feeling numb, and was only distantly aware of standing and moving towards the door. He glanced back once and then left the house, taking his horse from her hay and mounted, then urged her into a run and left the estate quickly.


	2. Ch2: An I dub thee Sir Talen

"Feeling nervous?"

Talen turned, jerking his head around sharply and stumbling over his own feet. He swore instead of answering, regaining his balance on the back of a chair and banging his knee hard into the carved arm.

Closing the door behind him Khalad chuckled, watching his brother limp around the chair.

"Aren't you supposed to be in armor?" Talen asked irritably. He paused and bent rubbing his tender knee and hissing softly.

"I'm here to help you into yours first," Khalad said. He drew himself up straight, regarding Talen with a stern look. Forgotten on the narrow bed was a set of padding. It was still neatly folded at the foot of the bed. "Did you forget something?"

Talen followed his brother's look, saw the padding and dutifully ducked his head.

"I got sidetracked."

Khalad said nothing but crossed his arms over his chest and raised a brow in silent rebuke of the feeble excuse. He was starting to look more like their father and this pained Talen some. Hiding that feeling Talen pulled his tunic over his head, stripping quickly and reaching for the padding. He dressed, Khalad gently reminding him when he began to the padding on wrong.

Soon enough Talen was faced with the formal enameled black armor of the Pandion Knights. This was not the first time he had ever worn armor. Returning from Tamuli, Sparhawk had been true to his word, entering Talen in his novitiate. He'd worn armor on the practice field on plenty of occasions since then. None of that armor had been his though. Most of it had fit poorly and bore the dents and dings of their years spent in the hands of students. Now as Khalad helped tighten straps and close buckles the fact that this was his own armor began to raise excitement in Talen. As Khalad finished Talen began to grin.

Khalad grunted, noticing the lopsided grin on his brother's face.

"Don't know why you're grinning," he said bluntly.

"I'm padded, just the way you showed me," Talen protested in the face of his brother's brusqueness.

"I'm not talking about chaffing," Khalad said. He made a last adjustment and then straightened looking critically at Talen for a moment. Then he looked up and met his brother's gaze. The smile that warmed his face was touched slightly with humor. "I'm talking about what happens next. After you receive your knighthood."

Talen's grin drained quickly from his face, along with his color. The young man swallowed hard and a shadow of fear entered his eyes.

**-+-**

It had somehow happened that Talen was the only man to receive his knighthood this year. Sparhawk was highly suspicious of this and certain the blame lay squarely at his daughter's door. He had refrained over the last few weeks of making this an issue, but as the door to his office opened and Kalten entered with Tynian and Ulath behind him the broken-nosed knight made up his mind it was time to have a long talk with his daughter.

"Sparhawk!" Tynian exclaimed, laughing heartily and stepping forward, extending a hand to shake with Sparhawk.

"I found these two in the courtyard," Kalten told his friend.

"Kalten mentioned Bevier was already here," Tynian said warmly clasping Sparhawk's hand.

"I believe he's in the chapel, he said something about saying a prayer for today's ceremony," Sparhawk said. He turned to Ulath, exchanging an equally warm handshake with the Genidian. "It's good to see you both, what brings you all the way to us?"

Ulath shrugged, removing a folded parchment from his tunic and handing it to Sparhawk. "Letter from Komier, when I heard the news I offered to deliver it in person."

"Ulath looked me up as he passed through Deira," Tynian said. "And there was an overly affectionate baroness I was looking to avoid."

"Talen will be glad to see you both," Sparhawk said, laying the letter from Komier on his desk and planning to read it later. He recalled a conversation with Sephrenia, in what now seemed to be the distant past in which the woman had confessed that Flute lacked the ability to lie convincingly. The child-goddess had implanted the feeblest of excuses into Talen's mind, sending him after Sparhawk and the others as they journeyed to face the elder god Azash. As he digested the reasons given by Tynian and Ulath the big Pandion was even more certain that Flute was up to something again.

"You got here just in time," Kalten was saying to the men. "It's pretty close to the hour. Khalad was on his way to help Talen into his armor when I ran into him a little while ago."

"Are you sure the Pandions are ready for Talen?" Ulath asked with a smile.

Kalten grinned widely. "We survived Sparhawk didn't we?"

"Do you mind?" Sparhawk asked his friend tartly.

**-+-**

The knighting ceremony was traditionally attended to by family and close friends. Talen and Khalad's mothers were seated close to the front. Elys was smiling brightly, pride radiating off the woman as she watched her son walk solemnly towards the front of the chapel. Beside her Aslade was wiping at her cheeks and wringing a handkerchief in her hands in between tears. Seated at on Elys other side was the Crown Princess Danae, gowned in silver and gazing adoringly at Talen.

As Preceptor of the Pandion order it fell to Sparhawk to make speeches for all sorts of occasions and to conduct the ceremonies that bestowed knighthood on the young men who joined the ranks of the Church Knights. He spoke briefly about how pleased he was to be present on such a beautiful day and gave thanks to god for the blessings bestowed upon those assembled. When he said this Danae gave him a sly wink and smirked just slightly. Sparhawk moved onto to talk about Talen and the young man's passage into manhood omitting the grittier details of their first meeting. He talked in brief about Kurik and the strong sense of loyalty and duty that Talen had inherited from his father.

Aslade's frame shook with the force of her tears as Sparhawk spoke about Kurik. Elys leaned over, putting an arm about her friend and comforting her while dashing away a few tears of her own.

Sparhawk had attended several of these ceremonies and since becoming Preceptor he had conducted them as well. This particular knighting was special to him though. He had known Talen as a young boy and he couldn't have been prouder to pronounce him as Sir then if he had been Talen's father. This feeling had driven Sparhawk to working long hours writing out a speech special enough for the occasion. The problem was that his obsession about the speech had been produced flowery metaphors and uncomfortable analogies about the passage into manhood.

In the end Sparhawk had given up with disgust and that morning had pulled out a few old notes from previous occasions, cobbling together the speech in the space of a few minutes.

He paused, not so much for dramatic impact but to cue Kalten who stepped forward bearing a black satin cushion on which lay an ornately decorated broadsword. The blonde Pandion presented the sword hilt first on its cushion and Sparhawk lifted it. Before him Talen sank to one knee, bowing his head and struggling not to grin. Gently Sparhawk raised the sword then lowered it, touching the highly burnished steel to Talen's shoulder.

He repeated this again, touching the other shoulder and completing the accolade.

"An I pronounce thee Sir Talen," Sparhawk intoned formally. "Rise now and join your brother Pandions."

**-+-**

_This completes Chapter 2, and I hope it was enjoyable. Thank you for your reviews – your feedback is appreciated and helps me to improve the story. Anyone interested in being a beta (or knows where to locate one) I am seeking someone to help me out._


	3. Ch3: Broken

The day was warm, warmer in this place where Iona dreamed than it had been those many years ago. A small orchard grew at the back of the house, and trees with pink blossoms reached into the cloudless azure sky. Iona walked alongside her father, her small hand swallowed in his grasp. On their father's other side her brother. He walked with his head bowed, clinging tightly to his father's rough hand. A breeze sifted through the boughs of the trees, stirring the leaves and petals. It strengthened, tugging frantically until the branches could no longer hold to their wards. Soon they were surrounded in a storm of green leaves and pink petals which the wind whipped against them in circling drafts.

They continued to walk, three figures garbed in somber black, their white hair catching the waves of the wind. The orchard accepted them deeper into its embrace. When all they could see in every direction were seemingly endless lines of trees, her father stops them. Iona and her brother moved in unison, turning towards their father to look up at him. The breeze persists, playing with their hair, tossing and twisting it with abandon. Very softly their father tells them how much he loves them. He releases their hands and takes their chins. Iona sees tears forming in her fathers eyes and she is frightened by this. Neither child speaks, allowing their father to keep talking. He says that his love is endless, and that nothing could ever change it or how proud he is of them.

Mutely Iona absorbs every word, cementing the moment into her memory so that she can return to it whenever she wants. The breeze strengthens, tugging at the fabric of their clothes now and the leaves and petals no longer dance but are thrashed about viciously. Her white-haired father begins to repeat himself, falling to his knees before them. He seems suddenly frail to Iona . She reaches up to take his hand from her chin. When her fingers brush the back of his hand she feels him shudder.

The wind catches him; Iona tries to grab at his hand but misses. His hand has turned to leaves and petals. Before she can even draw in a breath her father is gone, blown away by the wind. She stands alongside her brother and together they watch as he becomes lost amid the rest of the debris, where they tumble and spiral and then are gone as the wind carries all it beyond the boundaries of the orchard.

-+-

Iona woke suddenly, pitched out of unpleasant sleep being tossed into space. Poth, the maid who had been sitting beside her was falling forward as well, crying out in surprise. Together they landed in a tangle on the floor of the carriage.

From outside the walls of the carriage came the panicked nickering of the horses and two gruff male voices. Iona struggled to sit up, but the carriage was sloped at a sharp angle that made it difficult. She reached for her maid who was crying and trying to sit up. Gently Iona patted the girl's leg, hoping to calm her.

"Are you two okay?"

"I think so," Iona called back to the voice outside. "What happened Baurduna?"

"Rut in the road was too deep," Baurduna replied. His face appeared in the window beside the carriage door. "We've broken a wheel."

"Broken a wheel?" Iona echoed. She shook her head and pressed her lips together in disapproval. The door to the carriage opened and Baurduna filled the frame. "Are you sure?"

Beyond Baurduna came a sharp laugh and her brother, Vesban, was dismounting his horse at the side of the road.

"Pretty sure, unless you requested the carriage to tilt at this angle," Vesban called to his sister. Baurduna reached into the carriage and gently took Poth by the waist. Iona helped her slide to the edge where Baurduna lifted the young maid from the carriage and set her in the road. Iona was next and once outside she went straight to the broken wheel. As Baurduna had said, it was indeed broken, more then half the wheel lay in pieces in the dusty road. Iona , who knew little about carriages or wheels looked at Baurduna over her shoulder.

"Can you fix it?" she asked.

Baurduna bent and swept up a piece of the broken wheel. He sighed and held it up for Iona . "Not a chance. We need a replacement."

Iona huffed, crossing her arms beneath the swell of her breasts.

"We cannot suffer a delay," she protested.

"The wheel can't be repaired," Baurduna explained gently. He touched a finger to the remainder of the wheel that was still attached to the carriage. Iona leaned forward to look. "It's fractured all the way around, see?"

"What about a skid?" Vesban asked.

"Yes! A skid!" Iona exclaimed, clapping her hands. "What a skid?"

"Like the flat part on the bottom of a sleigh," Vesban said to his sister.

Baurduna was shaking his head.

"It's not going to carry us as far as Cimmura," he told the twins. Frustrated Iona threw her hands up in the air. She turned away from the carriage and its broken wheel. "I cannot be late! Why does Queen refuse to attend to these highways?"

Vesban turned away from his sister then. He went to Poth who had not moved from where Baurduna had put her down. Angrily Iona turned on the rut which was responsible for the situation. It was deep enough she thought her arm would fit to the elbow. She pointed at it exclaiming, "Look at this! It's a disgrace; this highway is relied upon by farmers isn't it? No wonder we end up paying so much at – "

" Iona ?" Vesban said softly.

"- market for produce. I'm going to have to work this into the – "

" Iona !" Vesban shouted her down. His back was to her, but he was looking over his shoulder, scowling at her. Iona snapped her mouth shut at the sight of her brother's flushed expression. Still glaring at her he added, "Did you even bother to look at Poth?"

Iona's eyes went wide. She stepped away from the rut to see Poth looking intently at the dirt and blushing deeply. The maids cheeks were damp with tears. Gently Vesban was holding Poth's wrist in his hands.

"Poth? What's wrong?" Baurduna asked.

"It's nothing sir," Poth said.

"Don't make light of it," Vesban said, tenderly rebuking her. To the other two he said, "Her wrist is hurt. It may be a little more serious then a sprain."

"Why didn't you say something," Iona asked, her brow creased with concern though her words rang with exasperation. Vesban scowled at his sister again.

"I'm sorry milady," Poth was saying. "I was only thinking it would pass after a few moments."

"Don't apologize," Vesban said. Iona turned to her brother but before she could retort Baurduna spoke.

"Alright children, here is what we're going to do. Vesban you are going to ride back to the city of Lenda with Poth, bring her to a doctor and find a man to supply us with a new wheel. Tell him to pick up the carriage from here and install it in his shop, where we will pick it up a weeks time. We'll unhook the team pulling the carriage and ride onto Cimmura with them."

Vesban was nodding but Iona blanched.

"This is going to cost a fortune," she moaned looking back at the broken wheel. The carriage sat to the side of the road where it tilted like a drunk.

"Why not just leave it here then?" Vesban asked her. He was going to his horse, leading it back to Poth. "You don't like riding in them anyway, what's the problem?"

Iona's jaw dropped and she regarded Vesban with horror.

"Do you know how much that thing cost me?"

Vesban rolled his eyes and said nothing. He mounted his horse and Baurduna lifted Poth, handing her up to the young man. Taking a moment to wrap his cloak about the maid's shoulders Vesban addressed Baurduna.

"Will we be catching up with you in Cimmura then?"

"Probably best," Baurduna said. He lowered his voice, "You know how your sister is about her plans going awry."

Vesban smiled softly and said farewell, lifting a hand to Iona who fumed at the side of the carriage. She waved dismissively at her brother. He shook the reins loose in one hand, turning the horse and called back, "Don't be mad at me darling sister, I wasn't the one who said it."

As Vesban and Poth returned up the road they were obscured by the dust kicked up from the horse. Iona stared after him, absently helping Baurduna to unhitch the horses from the carriage. The team of four still seemed a bit wild, rolling their eyes and tossing their heads with angry snorting. Taking a few minutes Baurduna calmed each horse down. With his gentle touch, and the soft words he offered, Iona watched the animals settle down.

"Am I really that horrible?" Iona asked, looking at Baurduna over the back of a horse. He looked at her, wagging a finger in her direction.

"You aren't going to catch me like that," Baurduna said.

"Oh, come on Baurduna," Iona pouted. "Am I difficult?"

"You can be," Baurduna said finally. He looked at the young woman he had watched grow from a baby. Iona, her black hair pinned back from her face, bit her lower lip growing nervous beneath the intense gaze focused on her. Just before she was about to say something Baurduna continued, "We've done this a half dozen times in the last five years. You haven't been this stressed by it since the first one. Do we really need the title of Lenda?"

"It would save a bundle in taxes," Iona said quickly.

"The current taxes we pay on bringing goods into and out of the district aren't that bad," Baurduna pointed out. "They certainly aren't cutting into the profits."

"Nooo," Iona drawled, turning away from him. She went back to the carriage, opening the door and leaning inside. Quickly she began to gather the papers which had fallen from her ledger in the accident.

"This wouldn't have anything to do with-" Baurduna broke off quickly, turning towards the sound coming down the road, the thunder of approaching riders. Iona joined him, clutching the ledger to her breast. "Vesban?"

"No," she said quickly.

"Maybe they'll pass," Baurduna suggested. He put a hand on Iona's back and escorted her from the road. They tried not to pay any attention to the group quickly approaching. Iona stuffed her ledger into a bag as Baurduna began to load their other bags onto the horses. Twice Iona found herself holding her breath, and she had to force herself to exhale. Looking for assurance from Baurduna, Iona saw him tensely gripping the hilt of the axe. Three riders came out of the dust, pulling their mounts to a stop at the broken carriage.

Iona looked up at the man in the middle, smiling at her and Baurduna, and she felt her stomach knot up.

"Seems like you have a problem there," the rider with the broken nose pointed out. "Need a hand neighbor?"


	4. Ch4: Homecoming

Chapter Four

The afternoon was turning towards evening, with the sun settling into the western horizon. Blue, cloudless sky was swallowed by unpleasant looking clouds. They rolled in with a bitter wind that was fragrant with the promise of rain. The change of weather seemed ominous, and certainly the young niece of the nobleman appeared to be unnerved by the approaching storm. She had wrapped her cloak tightly about her thin frame, her face lost in the shadow of the satin lined hood. Sparhawk felt a soft wave of pity for the young woman, for whom he did not doubt, was experiencing the world for the first time.

The rut in the road, pointed out by the nobleman, was alarmingly deep. Sparhawk looked at it with chagrin. It seemed to him the stretch of road between Cimmura and Lenda was in a constant state of disrepair, no matter how much money the Queen spent in its maintenance.

"And so I sent my nephew back to the city of Lenda to find a man to repair the carriage and to take my niece's maid to a physician," the man finished. He sighed heavily, "I suppose we'll just have to postpone my meeting with the Earl himself."

"Your business is with the Earl of Lenda?" Sparhawk asked, interrupting the man as he spoke the name of an old friend.

"Yes Sir Knight," the man said. He looked at his niece briefly and then returned his attention to Sparhawk. There was furrowing of his brow; concern and curiosity open in the Baron's face. "Is there something we should know?"

Sparhawk sighed, his shoulders slumping as the words found their way to his lips. "Lenda has taken to his bed. The physicians seem to feel that he hasn't many days left in this world."

"Is he alert?" the man asked. His niece moved from the carriage, joining her uncle's side, placing a gloved hand on his wrist.

"The message sent by my wife didn't say, that's our reason for returning to Cimmura," Sparhawk said with a gesture to indicate Kalten and Ulath, who flanked him. "Your business with Lenda was urgent I presume?"

"Well, more urgent now than it was a few hours ago I suppose," the noble said. He wrapped an arm around his niece's shoulders. The girl stepped closer into his protective embrace. The man's brows knit. "Did you say your wife sent you a message? You're not related to the Earl are you? I was under the impression that he had no living relatives."

"My wife and I are closely acquainted with Lenda," Sparhawk said with a smile. The deception wasn't necessary, and in the wake of it he felt a bit guilty for it. "I'm Sir Sparhawk – "

"The preceptor of the Pandion order, and Prince Consort to the Queen Ehlana," the man finished with a quick grin. He pointed to Sparhawk's face. "Your fame precedes you, and your nose precedes even that. Well met Sir Sparhawk, I'm Baron Baurduna of Dieros, this is my niece, Iona."

Sparhawk nodded towards Iona, who dipped her head but said nothing in response. Whatever she felt at this meeting would remain private as Iona kept her cloak firmly in place.

"My companions are Sir Kalten," Sparhawk said, gesturing first to the blonde Pandion on his left, and then to the hulking Genedian on his right, "and Sir Ulath."

"Well met all," the Baron said with a gentle incline of his head.

"I don't mean to be rude, but," Kalten trailed off and looked up meaningfully at the darkening sky. The wind had been gathering strength while Sparhawk and Baurduna had been talking. Kalten went on, "if we don't plan on getting rained on, it might not be a bad idea to get moving."

"Perhaps you and your niece would finish the journey with us?" Sparhawk asked. "The road ahead is rough, we would be glad to offer security to yourself and Lady Iona."

"That would be fine," Baurduna said.

"Will your niece be comfortable riding, and without a saddle?" Kalten asked. There was a doubtful expression as the knight regarded Iona.

"I'm an accomplished rider," the young woman said in an offended tone. She turned with a rustle of skirts and cloak and took the reins of one of the horses. Before her uncle could get to her side Iona had pulled herself onto the back of the beast. She looked quite comfortable there and, without waiting, pushed the horse into a canter.

"Forgive my niece sir knights," the Baron said mournfully, mounting another of the horses. There was a rueful smile on his face. "She is blessed with the trappings of youth."

Together the knights rode on, joined by Baurduna and Iona. The additional horses were tied behind the Baron's to prevent them from straying. The storm chased the party along the road as it twisted along the banks of the Cimmura river. The sun set was lost behind the clouds roiling with thunder. The edges were illuminated with lightening.

Rounding the last bend in the road the east gate came into view, and the guards recognizing Sparhawk, waved them through without emerging from their meager shelters. The streets were busy, despite the bad turn of weather, so they were forced to slow their progress. They pulled their horses to a walk, threading through the crowd just as the broken-nosed Pandion felt the first few drops of rain on his brown. Merchants were hurrying to close their shops, and in passing Sparhawk saw more than few pushing people from their establishments only to shutter the windows and close the door.

"Sir Sparhawk," Baurduna called, pushing his mount beside Faren. "Our inn isn't far from here, my niece and myself will say our farewell now."

"Nonsense, if your business is with Lenda it might be a better idea to stay at the palace," Sparhawk said. He shivered as a colder blast of wind assaulted them. It carried a wet drivel of rain that dampened his cloak and hair.

The Baron was regarding him with a doubtful expression, and Sparhawk was certain he was going to refuse. The Pandion had no desire to press the issue, but finally Baurduna nodded. "You have a good point Sir Sparhawk, let me speak with my niece."

"Your nephew won't attempt to travel the road tonight I hope?"

"Vesban may be a horrible gambler, but I'm certain he wouldn't take that chance," Baurduna told him. "He's smart enough to find an inn back in Lenda."

With that the massive Baron pulled gently on the reins and dropped back to ride alongside Iona. They pushed onto the palace, and by the time they reached the gates the streets were empty.

They rode into the courtyard and a few groomsmen emerged from the stables. Baurduna dismounted quickly and helped Iona from her horse. Sparhawk gave instructions to the grooms as the party dismounted in the courtyard. The young man who took Faren's reins from him eyed the massive war horse and did his best to stay as far as possible from it. The years had given the palace groomsmen enough experience with the aging war mount they no longer needed Sparhawk's warnings. As Sparhawk led the way up the stairs he glanced back. He saw Faren snort loudly, throwing his head in the direction of the groom who jumped and dropped the reins with a startled oath.

In the great hall the party was met by an older servant, a woman wearing clothes of plainly cut wool dyed in somber colors. She bowed respectfully to Sparhawk.

"Would you please see that the Baron and his niece are provided with comfortable apartments and ask the kitchens to bring them a hot dinner?" Sparhawk asked of her.

"And, please Sir Knight, might we borrow a messenger to deliver a note for my nephew," Baurduna asked, to which Sparhawk nodded and added a promise that the messenger would also bring news to their room about the Earl's condition.

"Until the morning then," Sparhawk said. He left the Baron and his niece in the hands of the servant woman. He said goodnight to Ulath and Kalten, and made his way for the private apartment that he shared with his wife and daughter. The sitting room was warmly lit, and a cheery fire glowed in the hearth. Sparhawk was immediately swallowed in the warmth of the room, and he took off the damp cloak even as Ehlana rose from the velvet sofa.

"Oh, Sparhawk," she breathed, putting aside the book that had been keeping her occupied. Unmindful of her husband's damp tunic Ehlana leaned into his embrace. Sparhawk threw his cloak onto the back of a chair and folded Ehlana within his arms. She looked up, rising to kiss him warmly and then murmured, "Welcome home."

I would like to thank ReginaAngelium for the excellent suggestions and hard work as my beta reader.


End file.
